An Interesting Night
by Jessrawrca
Summary: John and Sherlock are out of town and end up having to stay the night when the weather gets too bad to travel back to London. Fluff! Johnlock


A/N: Hello you lovely people! I just wanted to say hello and I've never written for the Sherlock fandom before so I'm kind of new to this on top of being an American, so if anything seems weird I'm sorry.  
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of it's characters. They belong to their rightful owners, ACD, Moffat, and Gatiss and I am just a lady  
writing for fun.

It was a cold and bitter night, the snow falling in a blindingly fast curtain of constant flakes, the kind of night that makes you want  
to stay beneath the covers with a good book in your hands to preoccupy your mind until your eyelids droop into sleep. Unfortunately for John,  
all of his books were back at 221b and he was out of town with his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes.

They were called out to the middle of nowhere for a case that Sherlock had found extremely interesting at first but upon closer  
examination had turned out to be relatively dull. He had sulked upon return to their hotel room and hadn't moved from the single bed since. When  
they had first arrived at the hotel that morning they had been very lucky to take the last room available, the problem however, was that they  
would have to share the bed at one point of time. John was a little put-out about it, worried about what people would say, but Sherlock was  
generally more interestd in the case and would most likely stay up all night anyways, leaving the bed for John to hog to himself so they took  
the room without too much of a fuss and ignoring the looks the hotel staff gave them when they handed the keys to John. What John did not  
anticipate however was how fast Sherlock would solve the case and instead of being able to leave immediately back to London, they were trapped  
for the night due to the weather which lead to John's current predictament, a post-case sulking Sherlock who had been wired the minute they  
learned of the case and God only knew when the last time Sherlock had actually slept. John had a feeling that tonight would indeed be a very  
long night.

Ignoring the pouting detective, John decided that a quick shower was in dire need and hastily dug through his suitcase for his pajamas.  
He took his time once he got into the bathroom, trying as hard as he possible could to avoid the persistent problem that was in the bedroom next  
to him that shouldn't have been a problem in the first place. He was an Army Doctor for Gods sake! He'd faced so much worse than this back in  
Afghanistan and he was most definitely not gay! Sleeping next to another man who was more asexual than anything shouldn't have been bothering him as much as it was, but that flutter of his heart at the thought of the man next door was most definitely alarming to the poor doctor. Realizing  
that the water was beginning to lose it's comforting warmth and that he couldn't delay the inevitable for much longer, John quickly dried off  
and put his pajamas on, feeling the coldness of the room in sharp contrast to his warm skin.

Still ignoring the bed and man currently occupying it, John shivered as he hastily put on a jumper and at last finally feeling a bit  
more comfortable, he turned towards the bed only to find that Sherlock was sound asleep, already cuddled into the warmth of the blankets and  
embracing the comforts of a world full of dreams. The trace of his earlier pouting frown diminishing as the world of sleep enveloped him deeper  
into it's folds. Dreading what people would say if they wre ever to be seen sharing a bed, John pulled the covers back and slipped in beside the  
softly snoring man and flipped the light switch off on the lamp beside him.

He was immediately aware of the proximity of the sleeping man beside him, the warmth practically burning into his side despite the added  
layer of a jumper. He lay there stiffly in the dark for what felt like ages before the deep, even breaths of the detective beside him lolled him  
into sleep. It wasn't until later on that night that John was jerked into the world of wakefulness by an arm pressing down onto his chest and a  
leg tangled up with his, a leg who he remembered belonged to a certain tall consulting detective sleeping beside him and how this was a bit not  
good. Trying not to panic and ignore the fluttering of his heart, he sleepily tried to push Sherlock off of him, not having much luck as the  
detective refused to budge. Not one to give up after one attempt, John tried to wake him up. "...Sherlock!... What are you doing?!" His voice  
was groggy from sleep and barely above a whisper and he almost gave up on the whole situation and going back into his dreamland when his  
flatmate softly mumbled "...So...Warm..." before another soft snore broke out from the sleeping man.

Startled at the warm breath against his neck, John attempted to break free one more time before finally calling it quits. He would admit  
that with the detective cuddled up against him that the room wasn't half as cold as it had been before he was so rudely woken up. He would never  
admit it out loud and would probably deny this in the morning, but he rather liked being this close to the detective. He knew the younger man  
was married to his work, but that definitely did not stop his heart from practically going berserk in his chest at the breath hitting his neck.  
No, John was most definitely not gay and had never had this type of reaction to another man but Sherlock seemed to be an exception. Perhaps the  
two friends were something else, nothing a label could describe. Perhaps it was just the fondness of two soul mates who happened to be the same  
gender, but either way, John was willing to let it all slide for the night and just let it be. He'd worry about it all later and what it could  
possibly mean for him and the detective, but for now he was comfortable and was soon lulled back into slumber.

If you had happened upon this scene, you would have come across two men snuggled together with soft smiles upon their faces. There would  
be no nightmares tonight, not as long as they were together. In the morning, one would grumpily stalk to the heater and crank it up without  
another word mentioned about the night before. Perhaps there would be more to come for the two, but one would never be far from the other, not  
the detective and his doctor.


End file.
